Ashes to Embers
by boswifedeb
Summary: A series of fires associated with murders take place in Houston, causing the over-loaded Arson Bureau to ask Sheriff Francine Martinez for help from her newest detective on the force – Matt Houston. **Immediately follows "Ultimate Betrayal"** Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

"**Ashes to Embers"**

"**Embers to ashes, that's how it should be.  
You'd think by now my heart would know, and it could set you free.  
The things I've tried, the tears I've cried, I guess there's no doubt  
You'll always be a fire I can't put out."**

**~"A Fire I Can't Put Out" George Strait~**

**CHAPTER 1**

"Lamar Pettybone, I know you can hear me!" The four foot eight inch tall woman shook with anger as she stabbed at the intercom button at the security gate of the California ranch that belonged to private investigator Matt Houston. Lamar had worked for the Houston family first in Texas and then moved to the ranch in the Santa Monica Mountains when Houston bought it.

Matt had just ridden up to the barn on Jasper, the buckskin stallion that he had been training for the last couple of months when his cell phone rang. "Yeah, Babe?"

"We have a visitor at the front gate…actually Lamar has a visitor." CJ's voice conveyed both annoyance and humor.

"Oh God - not Beulah again?" The PI shook his head as Lamar looked up at him, a fearful expression on his face. Sighing, he answered. "Okay, just turn down the volume on the intercom for right now and I'll go take care of it…er, her…you know what I mean. 'Bye." He heard his wife's laughter on the other end of the line as he hung up.

"Houston, I'm sorry…" Lamar began apologizing.

"It ain't your fault your fault you're so irresistible, pard." Matt winked at Bo, his other ranch hand, as Lamar began spluttering. "C'mon Jasper – this oughta be a good test of your training." He turned the horse and trotted down the driveway to the gate which was nearly three quarters of a mile from the house. As he drew within a couple hundred yards he could hear the grating voice of the corpulent female. Beulah Pettybone aka Richardson, Scales, Henderson…Matt couldn't remember the rest of the names that she had acquired over the many marriages that she had undertaken. Lamar had been either her second or third husband, the PI wasn't sure which, and Beulah had been Lamar's fourth wife. He grinned as he thought back over the years. Even when he was a kid he remembered hearing tales around the bunkhouse on the Texas ranch about Lamar and his choice of wives. Every time Matt heard the song "All My Exes Live in Texas" he automatically thought of his ranch hand and laughed.

Drawing nearer he could see that Beulah hadn't changed in the slightest – she was still just as round as she was tall. _At least she's consistent._ When she spied him, the former Mrs. Pettybone began fussing at the cowboy.

"So that little weasel can't come down here and talk to me himself, huh?" She stood with her hands on her hips.

"Afternoon, Miss Beulah." Matt touched the brim of the white straw cowboy hat he wore. "Lamar isn't here."

"Yes he is…don't you lie to me, Mattlock Houston! I saw him when he was drivin' up the road a few minutes ago. He got past your fancy gate here." She reached up with both hands, the fingers of which reminded the cowboy of sausage links, rattling the iron bars on the security gate that had been put in after an attempt on not only Houston's life but that of CJ, their daughter Catey Rose, and the two unborn boys that CJ was now carrying.

"Miss Beulah, y'all are divorced: why not just leave it that way?" He leaned forward, his arms resting on the saddle horn.

"Because divorcin' him was the biggest mistake I ever made." That's when the water works started. "He's my one true love – my soul mate. That Gypsy woman down at the fair told me we were meant to be together forever."

"Well maybe she saw somebody who looked like Lamar, you reckon? Maybe she didn't have her glasses on when she looked in that crystal ball. Y'all used to fight like cats and dogs all the time. I really don't think gettin' back together with him is gonna help anything."

As she continued to sob Beulah blew into an oversized bandana and the cowboy couldn't help but think of a few rodeo clowns he had seen in his time on the circuit. "But why can't he at least invite me in where we can sit down and talk about it?"

"Well now, that's probably 'cause the last time he did you darn near killed him – he ain't a big person, Miss Beulah."

"Why I would never hurt him…intentionally."

Houston was trying so hard not to laugh and instead acted like he was coughing. Jasper's ears had been flicking back and forth as he listened to the two and he now pawed at the ground impatiently. When Matt managed to get himself under control he shook his head. "Miss Beulah, he just doesn't want to talk. Maybe you should give him a little more time to think about it, whatcha say?"

"You could open the gate and let me talk to him."

"No ma'am - right now he's got work to do. Why don't you go on back to Texas and talk to the Gypsy lady some more…or better yet find another one. Maybe she'll find you another fella."

"Okay…" She turned back to the beat up pickup that she was driving. "But would you put in a good word for me?"

"I can try."

"Alright." With that she backed out of the drive and left headed east, Matt hoping whole-heartedly that she would take his advice and look elsewhere.

"Jasper, ya done good, buddy." He patted on the horse's neck before turning him and slowly riding up the driveway as he pulled out his phone to inform CJ that it was safe to turn the volume on the intercom back up. "And if you'll bring Catey outside I've got a surprise for her." A few minutes later as he started across the patio to the back door of the house, CJ stepped out with their one year old daughter. "Okay, Lady Bug, Jasper says you can come for a ride." The stallion was nickering at the girl and nuzzling as CJ picked her up and handed her to Matt. Catey sat up on the saddle in front of her dad and posed for a couple of pictures that CJ took of the pair before they headed down toward the barn atop the stallion.

Sheila Wentworth - the nanny for Catey Rose - pulled up in her van just as the two were halfway to the barn. "Has he got that baby with him?"

"Yep." CJ smiled proudly as she watched them go. "Jasper is done with his training. If Matt didn't trust him one hundred percent Catey wouldn't be up there."

A short time later, father and daughter were walking back up to the house, Catey riding on her dad's shoulders and talking a mile a minute while Matt just smiled and nodded, occasionally getting a word in on the conversation. As they got to the patio and he set her down on her feet his phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his shirt pocket, reading the text message from the instructor of his Fire Chemistry Class. A big smile spread across his face and he put the phone back. "Was that a message from your girlfriend?" CJ had just stepped out to put some chicken on the grill for their supper.

"No ma'am – my sexy girlfriend is right here." He walked up behind her and began nibbling on her ear – a turn-on that the pair shared – as he rubbed his hand on her belly that contained the twin boys that she had been carrying for about four months. "That was from Doc Marks – I aced my final."

"Congratulations!" CJ turned and put her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly, much to the displeasure of their daughter who immediately tried to get between the pair causing them to laugh.

After finishing supper, Matt was in the midst of giving Catey a bath and doing a funny little voice for her rubber ducky when CJ came into the bathroom with his cell phone. "Hon, it's Sheriff Martinez."

"Hewwo? Ahem, uh, hello?" Matt had forgotten to drop the duck's voice, sending the sheriff into a fit of giggles.

"Oh, dear Lord! Now is not the time for laughing." She straightened up. "Houston, we could use some help down here. Please tell me you can come down."

"Yes ma'am." He stood up, wiping bubble bath off of his arms. "Sorry about - you know. What's going on?" He left CJ to finish the bath and headed into the bedroom to pack a bag.

"Something that should be right up your alley: we've had three fires now that the Fire Marshal says are too similar to be coincidence. They're up to their eyeballs in the everyday stuff and when I mentioned you he asked if you would be able to help them out."

"He does know I'm not officially a Fire Investigator yet, right?"

"He does."

"Okay, well…" The PI looked at his watch: it was almost 7:00. Knowing how quick a fire scene could deteriorate he decided to head on down to Houston. "I'll head on down that way as soon as I can get the plane in the air. Where do I need to meet with him?"

"Here at the station. And I've assigned Chuck to help you. It wouldn't hurt for him to learn some of what you know about fires."

"Ma'am, I'm not an expert by any stretch of the imagination but I'll sure do my best. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Houston. We appreciate it. Just do me one favor…"

"Yes ma'am?"

"Don't use that funny voice when you question someone, okay?"

"Yes ma'am. Promise." He hung up the phone and began packing his bag as CJ walked into the room with Catey still wrapped in her bath towel. "Gotta go help out down there with what look like some arson cases."

"Okay…I would come with you, but Catey and I both have checkups tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, Babe." He stopped packing. "I was going to go with you."

"Nonsense – it's just a checkup. At least for me. Miss Catey here gets a few shots." The little girl reached out for her dad.

Leaning toward her he got a kiss on the cheek. "Lady Bug, I've gotta go to Texas. You be good and take care of Mama and Miss Sheila for me, okay?"

"Okay." She watched as he finished packing the bag, his holster and gun going in on top of his spare bulletproof vest. "Daddy be good."

"Yes ma'am. Love you – both of you." He kissed Catey again, then pulled CJ in for a hug and more extensive kiss. "Don't overdo, Babe. I'll call you when I get there okay?"

"We'll be fine. You just be careful – and don't forget to wear that vest, Cowboy. Love you." After another kiss, he zipped up the bag and put it over his shoulder and went down the hallway, running into the nanny as he entered the kitchen.

"Gotta go to Texas. Keep an eye on 'em for me, will ya hon?"

"Always. You just be careful down there and tell Madre Rosa hello for me."

"I'll sure do it. See ya." Matt hit the road and worked his way down the twisting, turning canyon road in the Santa Monica Mountains. He hit the speaker button on his phone and voice dialed the plane crew, finding out that CJ had already called and asked them to get the jet ready as soon as possible. Grinning, he dialed the ranch in Houston where he had grown up. The phone was answered by the housekeeper, Madre Rosa, who promised to have one of his cowboys meet him at the airport with a truck when he landed.

Once at the airport, Matt gave the plane the usual pre-flight check and then received permission for takeoff. After he was airborne and free of the traffic near LAX, he checked the time: 7:43. It would take him three hours to get to Houston, putting him on the ground at almost 1:00AM Houston time. Blowing out a breath, he reminded himself that he didn't have a nine to five job like most people.

Ranch foreman Marty Hoffmann and his brother Pat were waiting at the William P. Hobby Airport for their boss when he landed, both looking like a couple of barn owls that had been disturbed during their midday roost. "Sorry to get you boys outta bed." Houston tossed two bags in the backseat of the blue crew cab that was nearly identical to the one that he drove all the time in Los Angeles. The laptop case was nestled in the front passenger seat.

"Not a problem, Bossman." Pat stifled a yawn as he joined his brother in the other truck that they had brought.

"Well crawl back under the covers and try to get a few more hours of shuteye, fellas. Thanks a lot." The PI pulled the holster and pistol out of his bag and put them on along with his badge from the Harris County Sheriff's Department as the two brothers left the airport. As he got into the truck he first called CJ to let her know that he had landed safely and then Sheriff Martinez.

The traffic was fairly light and the trip north to the Sheriff's Department on Baker Street was fairly quick. He pulled into the lot at the side of the building, parked, and headed inside. The clerk on duty informed him that Det. Wylie was waiting for him in his office. Matt turned to the right and went straight to it, noticing that it was much quieter at that time of night than it was during the day. He walked into the office of his childhood friend to find him with his nose buried in the computer monitor. "Not lookin' at dirty pictures are ya?" Matt smiled as a startled Chuck looked up.

"Gees Louise, you're gonna give me a heart attack, man. Get your butt in here." Chuck stood up and the two men embraced. "How's CJ?"

Matt held his arms out making a circular motion around his waist. "She is getting BIG." He grinned. "But I'll deny every word of it if you tell her."

"Are you kiddin'? I ain't sayin' a word to her. Rule number one: don't joke with a pregnant lady about her size. It's a good way to die." The pair laughed. "Come on over and have a seat. Here are the files that Rainerio sent over for you." He stifled a yawn. "Coffee?"

"Yup, you know it." Matt plopped down in the offered chair and propped his feet up as Chuck went out to get the drinks. After checking the dates on the files, the PI started with the oldest first – which wasn't very old: May 12th. The Houston Fire Department had responded to the call of an apartment building fire at 2:17AM. The origin of the fire had been on the third floor of the four story building. All residents had been evacuated safely with the exception of the woman living in apartment 318, where the fire had started. Lorna Renee Gleason, age 27, had been found bound to a kitchen chair and gagged. The ME had determined that she had been alive at the time the fire was started due to the condition of her lungs, but had most likely been unconscious. There was blunt force trauma to the anterior right side of the skull, specifically a fracture of the orbital roof and the orbital floor. Looking at the accompanying pictures, Matt could see that her right eye region had sustained severe damage – certainly enough that it would render someone unconscious. The weapon wasn't readily identifiable. Gleason appeared to have been sexually assaulted but there was no DNA recovered from the body.

"Here ya go, pard." Chuck handed him a cup of coffee which he gratefully sipped on before setting it on the desk.

"Thanks." Flipping back to the information that had been gathered on the victim, he learned that she was a kindergarten teacher at Owens-Perkins Elementary in the eastern part of Harris County. From all that the investigator could gather, Gleason had been highly thought of in her workplace and everyone who knew her was shocked that such a thing had happened with one exception: her sister, Mrs. Angelina Reyes. Mrs. Reyes had told the investigator that her sister had complained about an old boyfriend who had been badgering her. Unfortunately, Lorna hadn't told her sister the man's name and they had no way of knowing who he was.

After another long swallow of coffee, Houston got into the technical aspects of the report. There were two points of ignition: the first was the mattress in the bedroom and the second had been a garbage can that had been put underneath the kitchen table. Traces of petroleum accelerant were clearly on the table in the pictures that showed what was left of the piece of furniture. The mattress was nothing more than a mass of half-melted metal springs and ash. The killer had made sure to douse the kitchen area and mattress heavily with the accelerant that had proved to be gasoline. The fire crew that was first on the scene had made note that the door to apartment 318 was not locked when they arrived. The apartments immediately adjacent to 318 – above, below, and either side – had incurred fairly heavy damage as had Gleason's apartment. A portion of a picture of the victim had been found near the table in the kitchen. The bottom half of it had burnt.

Closing the file, Houston opened the second one. On May 15th the fire department had responded to a house fire at 11:38AM. The fire had been noticed by a passing patrol officer who had attempted to make entry to the home but had been driven back by the heat and flames. Once the fire department arrived, the first two firefighters that went into the structure found 28 year old Elizabeth Ann Womack bound to a chair in the kitchen. She had also been gagged and had sustained blunt force trauma to the head. Flipping to the ME's report, he saw that the occipital region of the skull had literally been bashed in. The pictures were gruesome; not only was the body badly charred but pieces of the skull were sticking out of the brain. She had been dead at the time the fire was ignited. "Mmph." He shook his head.

"Pretty rough to look at, huh?" Chuck had been watching his friend's reaction.

"That took a lot of force." He continued reading. Once again no weapon had been identified at the scene. The fire had two points of origin: one point was in the bedroom where the mattress had been doused with what once again tested as gasoline. It had been liberally applied to anything flammable in the room, which included a chair along with what appeared to have been a large collection of magazines. The other point was the kitchen where the victim had been found. A partially burnt picture had been found near the victim, but she wasn't the one in the photo. While the front door was locked when firefighters arrived on the scene it was soon discovered that the back door was not. Some partial prints had been lifted but weren't good enough for an identification.

Matt flipped back to the personal information on the victim. Elizabeth Womack had worked as a waitress at a diner about five blocks from her home. Her husband was in the Navy, stationed on the _USS Rhode Island_ operating out of Kings Bay Submarine Base near St. Marys, Georgia. He had been on a deployment at the time of her death but was now back in Texas on leave. Elizabeth had no other family members nor did her husband. Like Lorna Gleason, she had been sexually assaulted but no DNA had been recovered.

Downing the rest of the cup of coffee, Houston opened the third file and began reading about Elena Gonzalez-Antigua, age 29, a worker at a local plastics plant. The fire had been reported by the alarm company at 1:18AM on May 24th. Like the other two victims, she appeared to have been sexually assaulted, gagged, and tied to a chair, and had suffered serious head trauma. Her right temporal bone had been hit with some undetermined object causing a severe subdural hematoma, but she had been alive at the time the fire was started according to the damage sustained by her lungs. Once again the bed had also been destroyed by fire.

Elena was divorced, the mother of two young girls ages six and nine who had spent the night at their maternal grandparents' home to celebrate a cousin's birthday with a sleepover. The ex-husband had a solid alibi: he was working as a civilian contractor in Afghanistan. The grandparents had been interviewed and had absolutely no idea who would have attacked Elena.

Closing the file, Matt tossed it onto the desk with the other two and rubbed his eyes. It was almost 4:00AM. "Couple of hours before sunup." He yawned. "How long have you been here?"

"I got here about ten – been off the last two days."

With a smirk the PI replied, "You're always off. So who is our contact at the Arson Bureau?"

"Wendy Chao. She called me right after I got back and said that she would meet us at the Gonzalez-Antigua scene at 6:30."

"Well…" The PI looked at his friend. "Let's go get something to eat."

"Suits me." The pair left the building and headed to a nearby Waffle Hut. After placing their order, Matt took a sip of coffee and looked across the booth at his friend. "So how are Lisa and the crew doing?"

"Fat and sassy. School is almost out and they've been making plans." The detective rolled his eyes. "What about your crew?"

"Fine. And I've got some news for you." He told Chuck that he and CJ had filed to adopt Tomás.

"So you mean to tell me that in just a few months you're gonna have four young'uns runnin' around on that ranch." He laughed and shook his head.

"Four kids in a couple of years of marriage ain't too shabby, is it?" The PI laughed.

"Well congratulations. Tomás sounds like a good kid. I just feel sorry for him having to put up with you on a regular basis."

"Uh huh." Their orders were brought to the table and the pair continued to chat over breakfast. When they were done, they swung back by the Sheriff's Department so that Matt could collect the gear from his truck before meeting Wendy Chao at the last crime scene. They had only been there a couple of minutes when an SUV from the Arson Bureau pulled in behind them on the street.

"There she is now." Chuck and Houston got out and walked back to meet Ms. Chao, a thirty-something year old woman with short black hair and a big smile. After the introductions, Matt collected his clipboard and the three took a tour of the damage.

"She was found here in the kitchen…" Wendy pointed out the general area. "Our fire bug used the trash can under the kitchen table routine just like in the fire of May 12th. I did find something strange, though." She opened up a folder and showed the detective a photo that she had taken on her first visit to the scene. "It looks like this might have been in the trash can when he started the fire. I found it on the floor over here under the table." Matt knelt down near the area. "It's a picture of the victim."

"So it probably blew out of the can. Looks like he put quite a bit of fuel on the floor here…" He looked at the char on the wood flooring and stood back up. "It looks to me like the gasoline had time to soak into the wood some…" Houston walked toward what was left of the bedroom. The splash marks from where the gas had initially come into contact with the carpet and flooring underneath were clearly visible. Next he walked back to the kitchen and examined the door leading to the back yard. "Was this unlocked before FD got here?"

Chao nodded. "It was. It's been dusted but nothing usable was on there." She watched as the PI carefully went down the back steps and out into the yard. It was obvious that fire crews had been through the area. In his short amount of time working with the Fire Marshal's office, Matt had become accustomed to the usual boot impressions left behind by fire fighters. Very slowly he began working his way out away from the house, scouring the ground. Chuck and Wendy watched as he knelt down, spreading his hand out across something before slowly standing back up and cautiously taking a couple of steps further away from the house, stopping again, then turning back to where he had previously stopped and setting his pen down on the grass. Once more he turned away from the house and went toward the back fence that bordered a small alley that ran behind the property. The fence line was overgrown with shrubbery. Carefully looking at the fence to make sure that he wouldn't disturb anything, Matt easily jumped it and crouched down, removing a small camera from his shirt pocket and taking pictures.

"Looks like he found something." Chuck and the investigator from the Arson Bureau carefully made their way over to him. "Whatcha got, bud?"

"I've got some tracks that go from these bushes out to where I dropped my pen – look about like a size 11 – men's. And…" He pulled an evidence bag out of the clipboard's interior as well as a pair of tweezers. "…I think our suspect might like sunflower seeds." He picked up quite a few hulls that littered the area. After handing them over to Chao, he stood back up and popped his back, making his friend wince. "Seems to me that he waited here for a while. Do we know what her schedule was that day?"

"No, but we can sure find out." Chuck pulled out his notebook.

"What about the neighbors – have they been interviewed?"

Chao nodded. "Nobody saw her come in that night, but then they weren't really looking for her."

Houston nodded. "I'm gonna walk up this way and see if I can find anything else."

"I'll take the other direction." Wendy hopped the fence and carefully made her way up toward the opposite end of the alley and Chuck called to speak with Elena's boss.

Stopping about ten yards from where he had found the sunflower seeds, the PI knelt down and once again began taking pictures. Chao turned when she reached the end of the alley and walked back to where Houston was still squatted down, taking samples of what appeared to be oil that had leaked onto the dirt alleyway.

"So maybe our guy parked here, walked down to the bushes and waited for her, huh?" She knelt down next to him and labeled the evidence bag as he began snapping photos of the tire tracks that were there.

"Maybe. 'Course it could have been something totally unrelated. These don't go on down the alley. Whoever was parked here must have backed out." He shrugged.

"Nice finds." She gave him a big smile. "I wasn't too sure when Sheriff Martinez recommended you to my boss, but you seem to know your stuff."

"I've got a lot left to learn about fires." Matt shook his head.

"You've got a knack for it. You'll do just fine."

After parting ways with Chao, the two went back to their vehicle. "So, what do you want to do next?" Chuck slid behind the wheel of the SUV as Matt took the passenger seat.

"Well, I'd like to talk to some folks: Angelina Reyes, Richard Womack, and Elena's parents for starters." Matt suppressed a yawn.

"How long have you been up?" Chuck pulled out his notebook and looked through for addresses and phone numbers.

"Since 4:00."

"As in 4:00AM yesterday morning?" The detective looked at his friend who yawned again as he nodded. "You're getting' too old for that, pard."

"Bite my old." Matt eased the seat back and got comfortable. "Wake me up when we get there."

"Well, yes sir, Mr. Houston, sir." Chuck laughed as his friend grunted and pulled the ball cap down over his eyes. In no time, he was snoring lightly.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

"Hey, wake up. We're at the Gonzalez's house." Wylie shook his buddy.

"Alright." Matt sat up and put the hat back in place as he rubbed his eyes.

"Here…" Handing over a cup of coffee, Chuck received a grunt for an answer and watched as Matt swallowed about half of it in one gulp before getting out of the SUV. As the pair walked up to the front door, the PI yawned again. Waiting for the door to be answered he spoke. "So why were you up at 4:00AM?"

"There was kidnapping that Hoyt called me in on."

"What happened?"

"It wasn't a kidnapping. The girl and her boyfriend took off for Seattle. She didn't want her folks to know that they were getting married."

"How old was she?"

"25." Matt grinned as he saw the look on his friend's face. "Hey, it ended good; that's the most important thing."

"People never cease to amaze me." Chuck shook his head as the door was opened by a man of about fifty. "Mr. Gonzalez? Detectives Wylie and Houston – Sheriff's Department. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Sure…" The man held the door open for them. "Come on in." He led the way back to the kitchen where his wife and the two little girls were sitting at the table. "Nita, these men are detectives with the Sheriff's Department."

Both Matt and Chuck had removed their hats when they entered the home. "Please have a seat. Would you like some coffee?" Mrs. Gonzalez had obviously been crying.

"That would be great. Thanks." Matt looked over at the two little girls who were staring curiously at the pair. "Hi. My name's Houston." He held out his hand to the older of the two.

"Adriana." The girl shook his hand and the younger held out hers to the man.

"I'm Michaela."

Matt shook with her. "So you're Elena's daughters?"

"Yes sir." Adriana looked down at the untouched plate of eggs in front of her.

"Well, we're trying to find out what happened to her. Do you know of anyone that she was having a problem with?"

"Well…" Adriana looked up at her grandmother who nodded as she set the cups in front of the two detectives.

"Tell them anything you know."

"There was a guy that came to the door a few times. The first time he came she opened the door and talked to him for a few minutes, but after that she wouldn't go to the door."

"Do you know what his name was?" Matt took a sip of the coffee.

"No, she never said. But he looked kind of familiar. I think she might have gone out with him after she and Daddy got divorced."

"If we had a picture of him do you think you would be able to pick it out?"

"Yes."

"What can you tell me about him?" The PI pulled out his notebook.

"He's tall – not quite as tall as you, and he has kind of brown hair."

"Okay…" Matt jotted down the information. "How old do you think he is?"

"Not as old as you…" She blushed. "I didn't mean it like that…"

Houston gave a little laugh. "That's okay. So how old do you think I am?"

"I don't know…thirty?"

"I like this girl." Matt gave Mrs. Gonzalez a wink. "You just made an old man happy, darlin'. So maybe this guy is about what…maybe your mom's age?"

"I think so."

"Alright. What about a car?"

"He had a van." The two girls exchanged a look.

Michaela spoke up. "It was ugly." She wrinkled her nose.

"Brown." Adriana nodded. "It had a lot of dents in it and ladders on top."

"Uh huh…" Matt continued to write. "Do you remember anything else?"

"He smelled…weird." The older girl shrugged.

"What kind of smell?"

"Well…kinda like a gas station but something else, too. I don't know what it was."

"And his hands were dirty." Michaela chimed in again.

"Okay. Anything else?"

"No." Both girls shook their heads.

"Well you two have been a lot of help and we sure do appreciate it. We're gonna catch this guy, okay?" He watched as both nodded sadly.

"Grandma, can we be excused?" Adriana looked to her grandmother.

"Sure, honey. Go ahead." After the girls were gone the grandparents sat down at the table.

"Do you have any idea who this is that they're talking about?" Chuck looked between the two.

"No…I know Elena went out every once in a while but not very often. Those two girls were her life." Mr. Gonzalez shook his head sadly. "She didn't deserve this."

"Nobody deserves that." Chuck looked at the picture that the man held of his daughter.

"Had your daughter mentioned anything about him showing up?"

"Not that I remember. Elena didn't scare easy. She went through a lot with her husband before they broke up and it changed her. She was a lot more self-confident than she had been before they had their troubles."

"Ma'am, do you mind telling us what those troubles were?" Matt took another sip of coffee and looked at her over the top of the cup.

"He used to go out to the bars all the time, drink up the rent money, the grocery money…and then stay gone for days at a time. She got fed up and divorced him – said she couldn't do any worse on her own." They got quiet for a minute as she took the picture from her husband. "Gavin is working in Afghanistan right now. We finally got a phone call through to him a couple of hours ago. He's not coming home." She began crying again. "We told him we want custody of the girls and all he could say was he would sign the papers."

"Worthless…" Mr. Gonzalez took his wife's hand. "But it's better for them like this. They don't need him around…he never took care of them anyway."

"I'm glad they've got you." Chuck reached across and patted the woman's hand.

"Where did she work?" Matt looked to Mr. Gonzalez.

"At a plastics company out on Industrial – Harper Plastics."

"Alright." He jotted the information down. "Here's my card. If you or the girls think of anything else you let us know." Matt circled the cell phone number and handed one of his cards across as did Chuck. "If y'all need anything…anything at all – you let me know."

The pair left and headed to look for Richard Womack, the husband of the second victim. He had left word at the Sheriff's Department that he was staying at the Creekside Inn not far from the home that he had shared with his wife. Yawning again, Houston spoke. "So the guy who kept bugging Elena drove a brown van with dents and ladders. Maybe he's a painter…or a plumber?"

"Could be." Chuck shook his head. "How could any man not want to claim those two girls?"

"He's not much of a man from what they told us. The kids are better off not having to deal with the likes of him."

"True. Thank God for small favors I guess." The cop drove along in silence for a minute and then began chuckling.

"What?"

"Not as old as _you_." He laughed.

"Chuck?"

"Hmm?"

"You and I are the same age – shut up." Matt reached over and smacked him as he started laughing again.

They arrived at the Creekside Inn and after speaking to the manager went up and knocked on the door to 214. It was answered after a minute and the pair identified themselves. "Mr. Womack, I'm sorry about what happened. We wondered if you had any idea who might have wanted to hurt your wife." Chuck watched as he sat down on the bed, his head in his hands.

"No…Liz was…" He smiled sadly. "Liz was just the sweetest girl on the face of the earth. We bought the house about six months ago. I've got about a year left on my hitch and spend more time deployed than in port. We talked it over and decided that we wanted to live here…" He motioned to the door that he had left propped open. "She found the house, and sent me an email with all the details on it. When I came back off deployment we went and looked at it. In a week, we were new homeowners and moving stuff in there. Liz was so excited, you know? Like a little girl playing house. She couldn't wait to start painting and decorating."

"Had she mentioned having any problems with anyone – a neighbor – anyone like that?" Matt was leaning against the doorframe.

"No, she had made friends with some of the other folks on the street and got a job at the diner a few blocks away. She was just…happy."

"What about former boyfriends? Had she ever had a problem?"

"No."

"What was the name of the diner that she worked at?" Chuck took over again.

"The Bay Breeze."

"Okay, well…" He pulled a card out of his pocket as did Matt. "Call either one of us if you think of anything or hear anything from somebody else."

"Alright." Womack stood up and shook their hands. "I just…I don't know what to do now. Liz was all I had…"

After getting back into the SUV both men were quiet. "Damn." Matt looked out the passenger window. "I can't imagine…" He didn't finish but just shook his head.

"I can't either. Hell, Lisa and I have been together since high school. I sure as hell hope to never find out."

"Uh huh. You got that right." They traveled the short distance to the diner and found the owner, Harvey Loomis, working the grill in the kitchen.

"Do you boys mind if I work while we talk? We're short without Liz here." His expression changed and it was obvious he was very upset.

"Yes sir." Matt was standing to the man's right and watched as he expertly plated an order of eggs and bacon, setting it up for one of the waitresses to pick up. Spinning the wheel that held the orders he began all over again. "Do you know if Liz was having any problems with anyone – a man maybe?"

"No, not Liz. She was just a sweet girl…so proud of that house she bought with her husband. They were planning on starting a family when his time was up with the Navy." Lewis continued to cook. "She was a great help here. Sure made some good tips. Not everybody has the personality and the talent to do what these girls do. You gotta be on the ball."

"Yes sir." Matt exchanged a look with Chuck. "Well we don't want to bother you while you're busy, but when it slacks up if you could ask the ladies if they know of anything that might help us out on this we'd sure appreciate it." After being assured that he would, the pair left him their cards and went back out to the SUV.

"Alright…" Chuck let out a sigh. "Let's try Harper Plastics where Elena Gonzalez-Antigua worked." He put the vehicle in gear and pulled out of the parking lot of the diner. "I sure hope we can get a DNA hit off of those sunflower hulls."

"Yep." Matt settled back in the seat again and caught a twenty minute nap while Chuck drove them to the plant.

"C'mon, Sleepin' Beauty, rise and shine." He shook his friend who woke up with a grimace on his face. "What's the matter?" Matt got out of the SUV and slowly stood up, popping his back and letting out a sigh of relief. "Uh huh – that old age is catching up with you."

"Kinda reminds me of Indiana Jones…" Matt continued to stretch as they went across the parking lot toward the large metal building.

"How's that?"

"It's not the years - it's the mileage." Popping his back again, the PI stood up a little straighter as his buddy just shook his head. Flashing the badge as he walked in the door, Matt looked to his left and found a receptionist. After explaining the reason for their visit, he was directed to the Human Resources office and met with Janice Walters.

"I'm afraid I don't know much about Mrs. Gonzalez-Antigua, Detective, but I can let you talk to her supervisor."

"Any information we can get would be helpful." He nodded as she paged the man. A few minutes later a long, tall man of about forty walked into the office looking rather grumpy.

"Sal, these detectives want to talk to you about Elena Gonzalez-Antigua."

"What about her?" He looked at his watch and then the two men in front of him.

"We were wondering if she happened to mention any problems that she might have been having with anyone?"

"No. The only things we talk about in this shop are the jobs that we're working on…there isn't any time for socializing on the clock." He gave both men an angry glare.

"Maybe she said something when she was on her break possibly?"

"I wouldn't know – I don't socialize with my employees."

"Uh huh…well, did she socialize with any of her co-workers – off the clock of course?" Matt didn't like Benevides and seriously doubted if anyone who worked there did.

"I wouldn't know. If that's all…"

"No sir, it isn't. I'd like to talk to her co-workers."

"Not on company time you won't."

"Sal, I think under the circumstances we can shut down for a few minutes while…"

"You're not the one who'll get written up if production isn't up to standards." Benevides cut her off.

Walters stared at him for a minute, picked up her phone and dialed a few numbers then told the party on the other end that she wanted the eastern line shut down so that the employees could meet with detectives working on Elena's case. "Thank you, Mr. Harper." Hanging up, she gave Benevides a wicked grin. "Shut it down and have them report here." Grumbling, the supervisor left, making sure to slam the door behind him. "Sorry about that. Would you fellas like some coffee?"

"I could sure use some. Thanks." Matt and Chuck sat down at the table that they were directed to and one by one, Elena's co-workers entered and were questioned. None had any idea about Elena having problems until one older lady made her way into the office.

"I might know something that could help you." She went on to explain that Elena worked at the station right next to hers and they often managed to sneak in a few words of conversation when Benevides wasn't looking. "She told me that some man had been following her in the grocery store a week or so ago. She had gone out with him once."

"And she didn't report it to the police?" Chuck took a sip of the coffee as Ms. Walters refilled Matt's cup.

"No, she said she felt kind of sorry for him."

"Did she say what he looked like?"

"No."

"Do you know which grocery she went to?"

"No, I'm sorry I can't be more help. That's all I know."

"Ma'am, you've been a big help. Can we get your name and number in case we need to speak with you again?" The detective jotted down the information. "Thank you."

The rest of the interviews were of no help and after thanking the Human Resources manager, they left. Getting back into the SUV, Matt pulled out his laptop and found Elena's house on Goggle Maps. "Alright here's her house on Candy Street and the nearest grocery is the Penny Pincher over on Market." He pointed it out to his friend.

"Let's go try it." Chuck dropped the vehicle in gear as Matt's phone rang.

"Hey Babe, how's it…uh oh. Somebody's not happy." He could hear Catey Rose crying in the background.

"No, she's not. I promised her she could talk to you after she got done at her checkup."

"Okay." He waited and could hear as CJ put the phone on speaker. "Hey Lady Bug."

"Daddy…" Catey was still crying but it was obvious that she wanted to talk. "Don't like shots."

"Well that makes two of us. You know what makes 'em better?"

"What?"

"A little bit of ice cream and a nap."

CJ spoke up. "I just happen to have some ice cream in the freezer. Do you want to try it?"

"Uh huh." The one year old was still sniffling but had quit crying. "Daddy, where are you?"

"I'm in Texas. Want to tell Chuck hello?" He hit the speaker button on the phone. "Go ahead."

"Hi, Unka Chuck."

"Hey there, Miss Catey Rose."

"Got shots."

"Well your dad's right – ice cream and a nap will fix that right up."

"Okay. Love you, Daddy."

"Love you, too, Lady Bug. Call me later after your nap and tell me how the ice cream worked, okay?"'

"Okay. 'Bye." With that she was gone and CJ was back on the line.

"Even a visit to Cricket and Jasper didn't work. That was the first thing I tried. How's it going down there?"

"Slow." He told her what they had.

"Well good luck with it. Think you two can keep each other out of trouble?"

Chuck spoke up. "Probably not."

"That's what I figured. Just be careful out there, Cowboy."

"Yes ma'am. How was your check up?"

"Everything is fine. No problems."

"Good. Well, you girls be good for me. Love you, Babe."

"Love you, too. 'Bye."

"Bye." Matt hung up feeling guilty that he hadn't been there for Catey but knowing that she would be fine none the less.

"I hate it when the kids have to get shots." Chuck shuddered. "I'm about as bad as they are."

"Me, too." Matt was looking at the wallpaper on his phone – a picture of him holding Catey while Jasper and Cricket had their heads draped over his shoulders posing right along with the father and daughter.

"After we get done at the grocery I want to go check the other two scenes."

"Okay…" He cut his eyes over at Matt. "Do you run like this all the time?"

"Like what?"

"On pretty much no sleep."

The PI yawned. "It seems like it happens more now than it used to…but maybe I just notice it more."

The Penny Pincher Grocery was fairly busy, but the manager agreed to look through the security footage with the two men. Unfortunately, he only had the footage from the last five days. "Let's take a look at it anyway; we might be able to find something." Chuck took control of the computer and armed with a picture of their victim, the two detectives ran through the videos. They found that Elena had come in three days before her death for a gallon of milk. She was in and out of the store in less than three minutes and no one appeared to be following her.

After thanking the manager, the pair left the grocery, hit a fast food burger joint for some lunch, and then went to Lorna Gleason's apartment but didn't come up with any other information. Next on the list was the burnt out home of Elizabeth Womack.

Chuck pulled up in front of what was left of the Womack home on Dallas Street. "Okay…let's see if you can find anything."

"So Wendy got put on another case, huh?" Matt looked over at his friend who had received a phone call from the fire investigator while Houston had been taking a nap earlier.

"Yep." Although he didn't say anything, Chuck had a feeling that Wendy had told her boss that Houston could handle the job. That had been the impression that she had given him on the phone.

Matt pulled out his clipboard and began going over what was left of the home. "Looks like he pretty well did the same thing here that he did at Elena's." Matt knelt down and looked at the flooring in what had been the kitchen. "Looks like it was WBP covered with vinyl."

"WBP?"

"Weather and boil proof plywood…" The PI stood back up. "It's plywood that's constructed with phenolic resins. It doesn't have a melting point – just a decomposing point of 220 degrees Celsius. That's what a lot of folks use underneath aluminum siding. It expands and contracts at about the same rate that aluminum does."

"Ooookay." Chuck followed as his friend carefully picked his way back to the bedroom where once again the mattress was nothing but melted metal and ashes.

Giving a grunt and shaking his head, Matt headed outside and circled around to the back yard. Examining the ground outside the back of the house, he once again was able to pick out the tracks that belonged to the firefighters who had responded to the call. He looked toward the back of the property that backed up to Brays Bayou. Working his way from the back of the home toward the water, he had gone about ten feet when the tracks of the firefighters were no longer visible but others were. "Uh huh." He knelt down and pulled out his camera, taking a picture of a particularly clear impression in the dirt before spreading his hand out over the print. "I believe…" He paused as he pulled up the picture that he had made earlier in the day at Elena's house. "…we might just have a match, pard."

Chuck squatted down and looked as Matt went back and forth between the two pictures. "Yeah, I'd say it is." They followed the tracks back through the yard. Although there was a good bit of grass in the yard, it was obvious that the water level of the bayou had been elevated at some point in the not too distant past and washed away some areas of grass, leaving bare earth behind. They went to the fence and climbed over it.

"He came from the east there…" Houston pointed to footprints that were headed both toward and away from the 75th Street Bridge that crossed the bayou just a matter of yards from the home. Once they reached the bridge, they could see another pile of sunflower husks along with several cigarette butts.

"Seeds and cigarettes…" Chuck knelt down and helped his friend collect some of the husks and butts. "Could be two people."

"It could." Matt stood back up. "Or maybe our boy is trying to quit smoking?"

"Good point. But there weren't any cigarette butts at the Gonzalez-Antigua scene."

"True – but maybe he's gotten past the need for nicotine."

"True."

"Could be either one." Matt shrugged and then labeled the evidence bags before searching around for more signs. The pair traveled under the bridge and came out on the other side at the boundary for the northern bank of Mason Park. "There's a parking lot right there. It's a short walk over to his hiding place."

"Damn." Chuck continued walking toward the parking lot and the two looked around but didn't find anything else. "So evidently he stalks the ladies, and then when the opportunity presents itself – bam."

Yawning as he nodded, Matt agreed. "That's the way it's looking."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

After going back to the Sheriff's Office and turning over the evidence that they had collected and making the report, Matt called it a day and went home to the ranch just north of Houston that he had grown up on since the age of five. Madre Rosa greeted him with a hug as he came in the kitchen door. "I was starting to think you had forgotten where home is." She teased him as she brought him a plate of her homemade tamales and all the trimmings.

"Nope, just been busy." He dug into the food. "Mmph…these are really good." The two talked as he ate and then he left the kitchen and went out to the porch to call CJ. "Hey there. Catey didn't call me back. Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Bo just took her down to visit the horses. How's it going there?" She sat down on the patio as she talked to her husband and was brought up to date. "You two really have been busy. How about a little help?"

"I was hoping you would say that." Matt smiled. "Think you could run a check on all the victims and their families for me?"

"I'll sure do it. I've been kind of bored around here today."

"Well now we can't have that, can we?" He chuckled and then yawned. "Babe, much as I want to talk, I really need to go hit the shower and go to bed."

"I know you do – I can smell you through the phone." CJ cracked up. "No really – you do need to get some rest, baby. I'll put whatever I find in an email to you. Go get some sleep."

"Thanks." He got quiet for a minute. "I miss you."

"Miss you, too, Cowboy. No go get cleaned up and get your butt in the bed."

"Yes, ma'am. Love you."

"Love you, too. 'Bye."

The next morning, Matt groaned as his alarm went off but he got out of the bed and dressed, heading downstairs. Madre Rosa had breakfast ready and waiting on him when he got there and sat talking to him about Tomás and the adoption as he ate. After thanking her, he went out and climbed behind the wheel of his truck and went to office, pulling into the parking lot just before Chuck. "Mornin'."

"Unhh…." Chuck groaned as he closed the door of his truck.

"Bad night?"

"You could say that. Kid number one and kid number two had a fight right after I got home and I had to deal with that. Then kid number four decided it was a good time to have a stomach bug. Bless her heart; she had rough night of it."

"And so did you, huh?"

"Well, that's part of the job I guess." Chuck poured coffee for both of them and they headed into his office.

After sitting down in the chair, Matt pulled out his laptop. "I talked to CJ after supper last night and she was going to do some checking on folks for us. Let's see if she got anything." He pulled up his email and read through what she had sent. "Nothing. They all look clean as a whistle." Closing the computer he took a sip of coffee. "But then I didn't really think they had anything to do with it in the first place – just have to be thorough."

"Yep." Chuck took a long sip of the brew and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, looking at our list from yesterday, we still need to talk to Lorna Gleason's sister – Angelina Reyes. And…" The phone on his desk rang. "Wylie…" He looked up at Matt. "Yes sir, we're on it." Hanging up the phone he sprang out of the chair. "Looks like we've got another fire."

"Alright – I'll follow you over." Matt went out and reclaimed his truck from the parking lot, following as Chuck made a path through traffic with the lights and siren on his SUV. They pulled up at a fire scene southeast of the office on Palmetto Street. The home was a single story that Matt estimated to be two bedrooms. As he got out of his truck, he opened the back door and pulled out his turn out gear and began suiting up. Chuck had immediately approached the captain in charge of the scene and was trying to gather information. Matt checked in with the man and then headed inside after donning his mask and helmet.

Entering the front door, Matt saw that two hoses had been brought inside the structure and through the small living room, one going left and one going right off of the hallway. Looking into the room on the right he saw as three fire fighters brought the remains of a flaming bed under control and then entered the kitchen where he could see the remains of a woman tied to a chair. _Just like the others._ He began snapping pictures as the four firemen put out the last of the flames in the small room and began sifting through, making sure that there were no hotspots. Although the woman was tied to the chair like the other victims, the killer had started the fire under the chair this time instead of under the kitchen table – the table was nothing but metal and glass: there was nothing there to serve as fuel. The body had been charred quite a bit and as he got closer to take more detailed photographs, Matt could see that she had sustained an injury to her right temple. On the floor a short distance away was what remained of a photograph. Due to the damage from the fire he couldn't tell if the photo was of the victim or not. He bagged the evidence and then after taking samples from under the steel legs of the chair, he went back into the bedroom that the crew had now vacated and took pictures there as well. This time the bed wasn't as destroyed as in the other three cases and as he moved around to the far side of it, something shiny caught his eye. Kneeling down, the PI pulled an evidence bag out of his clipboard as well as a pair of tweezers. There on the floor next to the bed was a condom wrapper. Matt felt a jolt of excitement as the possibility of finding a fingerprint on the wrapper occurred to him. Carefully he bagged and tagged it, putting it inside the clipboard and continuing on, collecting another sample from the scorch marks on the floor.

As he exited the house, Houston couldn't help but notice a look of relief on Chuck's face. As he removed his helmet and mask, he saw one of the CSI's from the Sheriff's Department pull up. A surly looking sergeant emerged from the van and began collecting his gear from the back. "Hey Sarge…" Houston started speaking.

"Who in the hell are you?" The angry looking tech gave Matt the once-over.

"Detective Houston – look – the bedroom on the right hand side in there had a mattress on fire. See if you can spot any possible DNA sources on it."

"If you're a detective why in the hell…"

"Do what he said, Oglesby - NOW." The voice of Sheriff Francine Martinez could be heard over the complaints of the tech.

"Yes ma'am." The last was said with a sneer.

"What have you got?" The Sheriff ignored the tone of the tech and zeroed in on what Matt had to tell her and the picture and wrapper that he showed her.

"This guy hasn't been gone long at all. We need to work the neighbors – see if maybe they saw a brown van with lots of dents and a ladder rack." Matt was working his way out of the tank as he walked back to his truck and then removed the turn out coat.

"Alright." She turned and called over three deputies who were on the scene, sending them out to canvass the nearby homes, returning to Houston who had put his gear away in the truck and then grabbed his clipboard and went around to the back of the house.

"None of the firefighters entered through the backdoor this time – could you get your tech to check for fingerprints on there, too?" He was busy scanning the ground for footprints and it didn't take but a minute for him to find what he was looking for. As he dropped down to his knees to photograph the find, Martinez got on the radio and instructed the tech to dust for prints on the door.

"Think it's a match to the other two you found?" She followed him as he started back through the yard.

Nodding he responded. "Yes ma'am, I do. They look to be about a size 11…" He paused as he got toward the back of the yard that was surrounded by a wooden privacy fence. There in the left rear corner was a small tool shed that sat diagonally to the corner of the yard. "And there are the sunflower husks." He squatted down and gathered up the evidence after photographing it first. Looking around, he circled the building but didn't find any other prints behind it, nor did he find any that led back toward the house except for the ones he had followed out to the shed. It was then that he turned to the fence and noticed a small bit of blood along the top of one of the fence panels. "Looks like he got gigged by a splinter maybe." He looked around for something to stand on to photograph and collect the sample but couldn't find anything. "Want to do the honors?"

"Sure." The Sheriff took the camera and swab from him before he cupped his hands, giving her a boost up to the top of the fence. Chuck rounded the corner of the house and just shook his head. "Okay, got it." The PI helped her back down before she labeled the bag that the swab went in.

"Chuck, we need to check with the folks on this street back here…what is it – Quince?" Matt looked to his friend.

"Yeah, that's it." The detective turned and started back around but stopped when he heard the sound of running feet. He was just in time to see Houston throwing his right leg over the fence then descending to the ground on the opposite side.

"Hey Sheriff, can you toss me the camera, please?" The PI waited and in a second the camera was carefully handed over along with the clip board. Then he heard "Oh, what the hell." The sheriff's face appeared at the top of the fence and over she came, landing on the ground with a smile.

"It's been a while." She couldn't help but laugh as Matt nodded. "Let's go see if anyone's at home."

Chuck's voice could be heard from the other side of the fence. "I'll catch up with you over there."

"Alright, pard." Houston and Martinez looked around on the ground. "Here…" Matt took a picture of another footprint.

"Looks the same to me." Martinez scanned the back yard. "We've got company." Watching where she stepped, the sheriff walked toward the back of the house. "Good morning." Matt looked up to see an old man armed with a shotgun who looked mad at first, then confused as the sheriff pointed out her badge. Matt followed her over, still checking for footprints. "Sheriff Francine Martinez – and you are?" She held out her hand to the man who put the butt of the shotgun on the floor of the back porch.

"Tony Alvarez. What in tarnation is going on?"

"Sorry to disturb you. We're on the trail of someone who is suspected of murdering your neighbor and setting her house on fire." She motioned to the house on the other side of the fence.

"No, not Ashley!" The older man shook his head and tears came to his eyes.

"I take it you knew her?" Martinez watched as Matt picked up the trail. "Go ahead, Houston, I'll catch back up to you." He nodded and went on around the house.

"Yeah, she moved in about a year ago. Her husband was killed over in Afghanistan a few months before and she was starting over. She did a lot of work on that house. Used to ask me for advice about how to fix things." He removed his glasses and swiped at his eyes with a handkerchief. "I'm sorry – would you like to come in?"

"I really need to see if we can find this guy. Have you noticed anyone hanging around?"

"No…but about an hour ago Sonny started in growling and barking. That's my dog."

"Yes sir. Did you happen to look out?"

"No, I was in the shower at the time and didn't have my hearing aids in. I could hear Sonny barking but thought maybe it was a salesman at the door or something. When I got out I looked around but didn't see anything. I didn't look out back here."

"According to our records the fire was called in by a Mrs. McNeese over on Palmetto."

"Yeah, Janey McNeese – used to go fishing with her husband before he passed away. I just can't believe this is even happening."

"I may need to send some of my people back over here to check on footprints that we've found in your backyard."

"Y'all do whatever you need to do. I just can't believe it." He shook his head sadly again.

"Thanks so much for your time, Mr. Alvarez." She left him standing on his back porch and went around the house where Houston had disappeared. He was now two houses down the street, squatting down and taking pictures again. "What have you got?"

"Maybe nothing." He motioned to what appeared to be fresh oil on the street. "We collected some samples of oil from the Gonzalez-Antigua scene yesterday. We can run a check and see if the two match up and if we should happen to find a suspect and can get an oil sample from their vehicle…"

"We might be able to nail 'em. Good thinking." She stood up as her phone began ringing. "What have you got, Guzman?" She listened as Matt bagged and labeled the sample he had taken and began looking around the area some more. "Alright, thanks." Hanging up she followed the PI. "So far they haven't gotten anything from the neighbors on Palmetto."

Matt nodded. "I'm going to pay these folks a visit and see if they noticed anybody parked out here this morning." He headed up to the front door of the house and was met by a pair of elderly ladies on the front porch. "Good mornin'." He touched the brim of his hat and gave the pair a smile. "Did either one of you ladies happen to see someone parked out here in front of your house this morning?"

"I sure did." The shorter of the two spoke up. "I told Marjorie that he looked like a hippy."

"Yes ma'am – could you tell me what he was driving?" Matt pulled a notebook out of his back pocket as did Martinez.

"Some old brown van – ladders all hangin' off the top of it. It was a sight."

"Did you happen to get a good look at the driver?"

"I did – he looked like he needed a bath and a haircut. Dirty lookin' something he was – not quite as tall as you, had greasy lookin' brown hair and just looked dirty. He had on a pair of blue jeans that looked like they had been through a bull fight down at Matamoros."

The PI couldn't help but smile at the remark. "Did you see where he went?"

"He headed up toward Tony's house there – a couple of houses up, disappeared for about half an hour, and then came running back to the van like a scalded dog."

"If you saw a picture of him do you think you could identify him?" Martinez spoke up.

"I sure could – and I'd tell him to take a bath, too."

"Yes ma'am. Could we get your name please?"

"Mrs. Gertrude Sparks."

Martinez took down the woman's information before her phone rang again. "What have you got, Chuck?" She turned away from the group.

"We'll need you to come down to the office and sign a statement about what you saw." Matt closed the notebook.

"When do I need to be there?"

Martinez turned as the question was asked. "I can take you there now if you'd like."

"Well let me go get my purse." She disappeared into the house.

"Other than the lady who called in the fire nobody on Palmetto saw or heard a thing." The sheriff looked at Matt. "I'll take Mrs. Sparks and Mrs. McNeese down to give statements. Do you mind staying here while I go get my SUV?"

"Not a problem." After the sheriff had her passengers loaded up, Matt gave her the evidence he had collected so far and joined back up with Chuck on Palmetto Street. "Did y'all get anything?"

"Nope." Chuck tapped his notebook on his leg. "We didn't miss him by much did we?"

"No…" Matt was putting his gear back into his truck. "I'm gonna go back in our victim's house and look through – see if I can find any information on next of kin or anything else that might help us."

"Alright." The two men walked back inside just in time to hear a string of curses coming from the crime scene tech. They exchanged a look. "Something the matter?"

The sergeant turned to look at the pair. "Just tired of…never mind." He gave Houston a dirty look and turned back to where he was dusting the back door for prints.

Shrugging, the two detectives began searching the home; Chuck took the bedroom where the bed had been burned while Matt looked around and found a drawer containing file folders in a desk in the corner of the living room and looked through them. "Mostly her bills, warranties on appliances…that kind of stuff." He closed the drawer as Chuck re-entered the room looking through a cell phone and carrying a denim purse.

"Her name was Ashley Fitzsimmons. She's got a Kim Sellars as her emergency contact in her cell phone." He exchanged a look with Matt. "It's a local number."

"I don't like the idea of a death notification on the phone."

"Me either. Sucks either way to hear something like that but the phone is worse in my opinion." He called for a reverse directory look up as Matt continued to look around the room, finding a scrap book on the coffee table. "I've got her home address."

"Let me see her license." Looking at the ID he shook his head. He pointed to a picture that was captioned "_Sis and me on the beach."_ "They look like sisters…and neither of these ladies are the one that was in the picture I found in the kitchen."

"Man, I hate this part of the job."

"Yep." The PI continued to look around but didn't see anything else.

"Okay, I'll go take care of the notification."

"Alright, I'm going to head back to the office and look through what we've got…" He stood back up. "And hope like heck we got a hit on the DNA from the sunflower seeds."

"Catch ya later."

"Uh huh." Matt looked around the house once more, then headed out to his truck and went back toward the office. As he was stopped at a light, he called CJ. "How ya doin', Lil Mama?"

"Fine. You don't sound nearly as tired as you did last night."

"No, a good night's sleep took care of that. But I could use your help again if you don't mind."

"Good, I've been looking for something to do." She listened as he explained his morning and gave her the name of the latest victim.

"See what you can find out about her and see if these ladies had anything in common, please ma'am."

"I'll sure do it. Just be careful, Cowboy. Love you."

"You, too, Babe. 'Bye." He hung up and began turning over the case in his mind. All of the victims had been female, were tied to chairs in the kitchen, and appeared to have been sexually assaulted. The fact that Mrs. Sparks had seen the brown van with the ladder racks backed up what Elena Gonzalez-Antigua's daughters had told him about the man that had come to their home. Maybe if he could get a composite sketch of their suspect out to the public, they might be able to get some help. Pulling into a nearby parking lot, he looked in his notebook for the number at the Gonzalez house. "Mrs. Gonzalez, this is Detective Houston. Do you think the girls would be able to help us with a sketch of the man they told us about?" He listened to her reply. "Okay, I'll swing by there and pick y'all up. Thank you." Changing direction, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the Gonzalez home.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

"Okay, now close your eyes and think real hard about what he looked like when he came to the door." Matt spoke quietly to nine year old Adriana. "You got it?" She nodded. "Okay, now tell her what you can remember and I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" He patted her on the back as he left Chuck's office and went out to the squad room where her grandmother and younger sister were seated. He knelt down next to six year old Michaela and gave her a smile and a wink. "Mrs. Gonzalez, do you mind if the girls have a drink?"

"No, that's fine."

"Whatcha want, darlin'?" He looked down at the little girl again, the conversation that he and Chuck had before about what kind of man would give up custody of the girls going through his mind.

"I want a root beer."

"Ah hah! I knew I liked you for some reason. What about your sister?"

"She likes root beer, too."

"Alright then – wanna help me get 'em? There's a machine right over there." He pointed over his shoulder and the girl slid out of the chair, taking him by the hand. When they reached the machine he pulled change out of his pocket and handed it to her, holding her up letting her put the money in and hitting the button for the drinks. They came back and she climbed back up next to her grandmother and thanked him. "You're welcome. I kinda wanted one anyway." He popped the top on her bottle and then his and they both took a sip.

"You have children, don't you?" Mrs. Gonzalez smiled at him.

"Yes ma'am – I've got a one year old daughter, my wife is about four months along with twin boys…and we're in the process of adopting a fifteen year old boy."

"My goodness!"

Houston continued to chat with the pair until Adriana was done giving the sketch artist a description of the man. "Michaela, does that look like him to you?" He turned the drawing so that she could see it.

"It sure does."

He thanked the artist as Chuck walked into the squad room. "Uh huh, here you are with all the pretty ladies. Guess some things never change." He gave the group a smile and then listened as Matt told him what they had been doing.

"I couldn't make contact with Kim Sellars – her landlady says she's out of town."

"Okay. I'm going to take this up to see if the ladies that rode in with Sheriff Martinez have anything to add." He turned to Mrs. Gonzalez. "Do y'all mind waiting a few minutes?"

"No, not at all. I just want you to catch this man."

"I'll be back as quick as I can." He turned and headed for the elevator, riding up to Martinez's office. After explaining to the secretary what he had, she told him to go on in. He knocked first before sticking his head in the door.

"Houston, come on in." Martinez had been taking down the statements.

"Elena Gonzalez-Antigua's daughters helped us with this sketch. I wanted to see if Mrs. Sparks had anything to add to it." He held the picture out to Mrs. Sparks.

"That's him…only he doesn't look this clean." She looked at Houston over the top of her glasses.

"We need to get this out to the media; that way we'll have more eyes searching for this guy…and just maybe he'll turn himself in." Sheriff Martinez made a copy of the picture.

After showing Mrs. Sparks and Elena's daughters some photos of vans, they had agreed that it was most likely a 1998 Chevy work van with ladder racks on top. Houston took the Gonzalez family home and when he returned to the station, logged into the DMV's website and began running through the records looking for possible matches on the van. It was then that Chuck came back into the office along with Angelina Reyes, the sister of Lorna Gleason, their first victim.

"Mrs. Reyes, I'm sorry about your sister." Matt pulled up the picture of the van. "Do you remember anyone that your sister knew who drove a van like this?" He turned the laptop so that she could see.

"I don't…no, wait a minute. She did tell me about a guy that was a painter that she went out with one time…" Looking at the van, Reyes nodded. "You know, that could be it. But she said it was really rough looking – had a lot of dents in it and it smelled like paint."

"Did she say anything else about him?" Chuck and Matt exchanged a look.

"Yeah, she met him at the school – the guy he was working for had won the contract for painting the school. He was painting her classroom right before school started and they were talking while he painted and she was getting her lesson plans together for the fall semester."

"But you never saw him?" Chuck was looking up the number for the school.

"No, never laid eyes on him. Lorna went out with him once. He was kind of…well, he wanted to…you know…and she wasn't the kind to just be casual with sex. She refused to go out with him again."

Matt handed her a legal pad and gave her his seat. "If you could just write all that down, I'll type it up and you can sign it."

"Sure." Reyes had a seat and in a couple of minutes Matt had it typed up and she signed it. "So you really think this could help?"

"Yes ma'am." Chuck had just gotten off the phone with the principal of Owens-Perkins Elementary. "I'll take you back home and Houston here is going to go have a chat with Mrs. Futrell at the school to see if she can identify him."

"Thanks for your help." Matt took the laptop and copy of the picture and headed for the elementary school. He pulled in and parked out in front and was met at the entrance by a security guard who took him to the office.

"She'll be right with you. Please have a seat." The receptionist gave him a smile as a boy of about nine watched him carefully. The detective sat down on a bench and looked across at the boy who didn't seem very happy. In a couple of minutes the principal emerged from her office with a lady who was apparently the boy's mother. He got up and followed her outside, and Matt could tell from their body language that the boy was getting a good chewing out.

"Detective Houston?" Gladys Futrell came around the counter. "Detective Wylie was asking me about some workers we had here at the school. How can I help you?"

"Ma'am, do you recognize this man as one of the painters – or do you recognize the van?" He held out the picture to her and opened up the laptop to show her the van.

"Ummm…I was really busy…I don't recall his face but the van does seem familiar. Janice, do you recognize him? She dealt with the painters more than I did. I was busy distributing textbooks that week."

"I sure do. That's the one I told you about that kept asking me out." She waved her left hand in the air. "Obviously I'm married. Do you think he had something to do with Lorna's death?"

"We think it's a possibility. Would you be able to tell me who he was working for at the time?" Matt felt a glimmer of hope.

"I don't remember right off the top of my head but I know the district maintenance office will have records. Come on back to my office." Matt thanked the receptionist and followed the principal around the counter and back to her office where she picked up the phone and began dialing. After a few minutes she spoke to Matt. "The company was Southeast Texas Painting…" She listened for another minute. "The owner is Sam Zimmer."

Houston began working the keyboard on the laptop and found a listing for the company. After writing down the address in his notebook he closed it up and thanked both of the women before heading out to his truck, calling Chuck and filling him in as he slid behind the wheel of the truck. "I'm headed that way now."

"Okay, I've just about got Mrs. Reyes back home. Let me know what you get."

"Talk to you later." Houston hit the 610 Freeway headed south, crossing over Buffalo Bayou right before exiting at Manchester Street and heading west, then turning north on Broadway and then taking a right onto Cypress Street. He could see the cranes that loaded and unloaded barges down at Harrisburg Bend when he climbed out of the truck. He walked through the door of the business and was confronted by a barrel-chested man of about sixty. "I'm looking for Sam Zimmer."

"Well son, you found him." He eyed the detective dubiously. "Which ex-wife sent you?"

Matt shook his head. "No ex-wife involved. I'm looking for this man." He showed the sketch to Zimmer.

"Uh huh. What'd he do?"

"We'd like to talk to him about some fires in the area – that were set in conjunction with murders."

Zimmer stopped chewing his cigar and his eyes got big. "You're kiddin' me…"

"No, sir. Do you know his name?"

"Yeah, that's Ben Dietrich."

"Know where he lives?"

"Uh well, I've probably got an address for him somewhere in here. He hasn't worked for us in about six months. We got too many complaints on him. Folks saying he talked more than he painted. He had a husband beat the snot out of him, too – for getting too friendly with his missus." Zimmer walked over and pulled open a drawer on a filing cabinet that looked like World War II surplus. "Where is it…ah, here it is." He pulled out a ratty folder. "9284 East Avenue Q – that's just east of here."

"Yes sir." He pulled up the picture of the van. "Does this look like his van?"

"Hah." Zimmer took a puff of the cigar and tapped on the screen. "He wishes. His van's got a boatload of dents, scratches, paint – you name it."

"Mr. Zimmer…" Matt held out his hand. "I sure do appreciate your help."

"You're welcome."

Back out at the truck, Houston pulled out his phone and called Chuck. "Man, that is a stroke of luck." He got quiet for a minute. "Tell you what, pard. Just mosey down through there and see if his van is there. If it is, we'll meet up and move in on him."

"Alright. I'll let you know. You might want to tell the sheriff."

"Yup, I'll do it."

Matt retraced his route back to Manchester Street and passed under the freeway, then turned left on Concrete Road. Four blocks later he turned right onto Avenue Q and casually went down the street. There just a few houses down on the right was the beat-up van parked outside an equally run-down trailer. After passing by, Matt punched the redial button on the cell phone and hit the speaker. Chuck answered on the first ring. "The van's there – the front door was closed and I didn't see anyone in the yard."

"Okay, meet me in the parking lot of Hartman Park. I'll be there in about ten minutes – with some backup. You got your vest?"

"Yup – never leave home without it anymore."

"Good. I don't need CJ puttin' a whoopin' on me. See ya in a few." The detective disconnected the call and called in for backup.

Matt was at the park in less than a minute; it was only a couple of blocks from Dietrich's home. No one was near and he slid out of the truck, opening the backdoor. After checking his Glock and making sure that he had extra magazines in the pouch on his left leg, he donned the bulletproof vest and got back into the truck. True to his word, Chuck pulled in a few minutes later with a pair of patrol cars.

Houston drew a diagram of the street and the trailer, and the group decided that two uniformed officers would cover the back while two more would cover either end of the trailer. Matt and Chuck would hit the front door. They headed toward Dietrich's home, Matt riding with Chuck.

As they quietly pulled in front of the trailer, the uniformed officers jogged to their assigned posts as the two friends got ready. Chuck spoke quietly. "I'm all for trying to do this the easy way – you?"

"Yep, if he will. If not…" Houston shrugged his shoulders.

"Rock, paper, scissors for the door?" Chuck gave his long-time friend a grin and he nodded. "One, two, three…dang it. You always get the good jobs." Both men chuckled as they approached the front door, but grew serious when they reached the concrete blocks that were serving as steps. Both stood to either side of the steps and Matt reached over and knocked loudly on the door.

"Ben Dietrich – this is the Sheriff's Department. Open up." He looked over at Chuck as both listened intently. Houston nodded and pointed at his ear as his buddy nodded that he had heard something, too. After waiting a minute, the PI knocked again. "Mr. Dietrich, you need to open the door and come on out: we need to talk." They both heard scrambling inside the trailer and then from the north side there was a gunshot and the sound of breaking glass. All of the officers moved in that direction to find the officer that had taken that end on the ground, blood coming from a gunshot wound to his right leg. One of the other uniformed officers called in for an ambulance and more backup.

Gritting through the pain, the young officer spoke. "He went toward the bayou."

Matt, Chuck, and two of the uniformed officers ran north toward Buffalo Bayou that meandered across Harris County. There was a tanker storage facility on the other side of the neighborhood. "I'll check with security here, you go on down toward the bayou." Chuck tagged one of the officers and they turned right and headed for the front gate of the business as Matt and the other officer continued on, running down Concrete Drive toward the railroad tracks. There were several cars and an engine stopped on the tracks. Drawing his pistol, he carefully approached, looking first at the tops of the cars and then looking underneath to see if there was any sign of Dietrich. Separating, he and he officer passed between two of the cars and carefully looked to the left and the right, not seeing the man.

Both men jogged toward another group of tanks and carefully looked around, then Houston looked down: there was a muddy shoe print that looked just like the ones that he had found at the crime scenes. He waved the officer over and showed him the print. "This is our guy."

"Yes sir." He followed the detective as he tracked their suspect across the area of the tanks and across another set of railroad tracks, and down toward the water's edge. The prints in the mud along the bank of the bayou were readily apparent and the two began following them, the uniformed officer calling in to let the others know what they had found and the direction they were headed.

As they approached the 620 Freeway Bridge that went over the bayou, Houston and the officer continued to follow the tracks. Looking up, the detective spied their suspect. "There he is." He had just climbed over a fence and was now sprinting across the yard of the concrete plant. The noise of the machinery was loud and Matt knew there was no point in trying to yell at the man. They continued to follow him as he crossed over another fence and kept heading west, this time going across the property of a galvanizing plant. Dietrich was beginning to tire and slowed down as he reached the next fence, while Houston and the officer began closing in, both men grabbing the suspect by the shoulder and pulling him off of the fence, down onto the grass. It was then that they both saw the knife in Dietrich's hand and together they wrestled it away from him, turning him over and cuffing him. As the officer let the others know that Dietrich was now in custody, he and Matt continued to try to catch their breath.

Looking at the officer's nametag, the detective smiled and held out his hand. "Matt Houston."

"Greg Bivens." They shook. "I don't know about you, but I think I'll wait for them to bring a car over."

"Won't hurt my feelings at all." Matt laughed and together the two men began checking Dietrich's pockets to make sure that he didn't have any other weapons on him. After reading him his rights, Matt rolled the man onto his right side. "So – were you planning on going for a swim or were you headed back to your old boss to see if he would take you back?" They weren't far at all from Southeast Texas Painting. All Dietrich did was scowl at him. "Sam Zimmer says you got fired for too much talking and not enough painting…not to mention getting the snot beat out of you by a jealous husband." The suspect just glared at him. Looking up at Bivens, the detective grinned. "Guess he doesn't wanna talk about that." Both men laughed as the sound of approaching sirens got louder. "Alright, bend your knees." The pair hauled Dietrich to his feet and started walking toward the parking lot of the galvanizing plant where workers were now gawking. Three patrol cars came into the parking lot and Matt stuffed their suspect into the back seat of one of the cars. "Where's the gun?" Dietrich just stared blankly out the passenger side window. "I know you tossed it somewhere." Still there was no reply. Slamming the door on the car, he turned back to Bivens. "Guess I'll go back and see if he threw it down while he was running."

"I'll come with you." The two retraced their steps and as they approached the fence where they had captured Dietrich the deputy chuckled. "Glad we're walking this time."

"Amen to that." The pair scoured the area and began going back the way they had come chasing their suspect when Matt's phone rang. "Yeah, Bud?"

"You alright?" Chuck had returned to the trailer and was about to begin searching it.

"Yeah, Bivens and I are backtracking trying to figure out where he threw the gun. Hope it didn't go in the water. How's our guy that got shot?"

"On the way to the ER – he should be alright. Hey, did Dietrich have a set of keys on him by any chance?"

"Nope."

"Alright. See ya." Chuck hung up the phone and climbed up the steps to the trailer, checking first to see if the door was unlocked and was surprised to find that it was. "Dumb son of a bitch." He and a couple of other officers entered the trailer, pulling on nitrile gloves as they walked into the jumbled mess that was originally a living room.

Bivens called out a few minutes later as they were passing underneath the freeway bridge. "Found it." He pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket and reached into the edge of the bayou, retrieving a revolver. ".38 special…looks like it's been through the mill, too."

"Good deal." The pair walked on back over to the trailer and arrived just as Sheriff Martinez pulled up on the scene.

Getting out of her SUV she gave the pair a smile. "I heard you went jogging."

"You could say that…but I believe it was more of a sprint than a jog – whatcha think, Greg?"

"Uh huh." The deputy put the revolver into an evidence bag that the sheriff handed him.

"Did he say anything when you caught up to him?"

"Not a word. I read him his rights and tried to talk to him but he clammed up." Houston leaned on the fender of Chuck's SUV.

"Okay, I'm going to go in here and see if Chuck's found anything and then we can go back and see if he'll be more talkative. You better stay out here." She motioned to Matt's feet that were covered in mud, dust and grass from his chase.

"Alright." He waited a few minutes and then she emerged from the trailer followed by Wylie who was carrying an evidence bag.

"We found pictures of six other women." Chuck held up the bag to his friend. "I'd sure like to know why in the hell he was doing this."

"I'm not so sure that would make it any better, pard." Houston shook his head and then climbed into the sheriff's SUV.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

After retrieving his truck from the park and getting his boots cleaned off somewhat, Houston entered the station, hit the coffee pot, and found out which interrogation room Ben Dietrich was in. Sheriff Martinez came out and closed the door behind her. "I got him to talk."

"Betcha all he said was "I want a lawyer.""

"Yep." She went toward the elevator. "Let's go see what the lab has come up with…hopefully something that will convince his public defender to cooperate with us." The two rode up in silence and Matt sipped the coffee. "You know – you could just move back here to Texas…" Cutting her eyes at Matt she gave him a smile. "We wouldn't mind having you around full time."

"Well, eventually I probably will move back…" The doors on the elevator opened. "But not just yet; and when I do, it won't be to work here."

"Let me guess: your ranch."

"Yes ma'am. When I move back, I'll be retired from this business."

"It sounds like you've been giving it some thought."

"I have."

They entered the lab and Martinez went to one of the techs and inquired about the evidence that had been found so far and was told that the DNA hadn't come back yet on the sunflower husks.

"I take it Dietrich has been fingerprinted?" Houston looked at his boss.

"He has."

"Were there any usable prints on the condom wrapper?" He looked at the tech.

Michelle Rodolfo nodded. "They're Dietrich's."

Matt thoughtfully rubbed his beard. "I'd like to take a look at the pictures that were found at the scenes."

"Alright…" The tech rounded up the items he had requested and stood by while Houston and Martinez looked them over.

"Looks like they were printed out on photo paper…" He looked at all four. "You know…" Thinking for a minute he looked at the sheriff. "All four pictures were found near the bodies. But only two were of the victims." He replaced the photos and resealed the evidence bags and signed the tape before thanking the tech and walking out to the elevator. Matt punched the button and took a long sip of the coffee. "If your tech got any DNA off of the bed this morning we might be able to get somewhere." They boarded the elevator. "I'm still trying to figure out why all of the pictures didn't match up with the victims. But…" He allowed her to exit before him. "Think about it…we're pretty certain that he and Lorna Gleason went out one time. We're also pretty certain that he went out with Elena Gonzalez-Antigua. The pictures on those two matched."

They wandered into the break room and Matt hit the coffee pot again and got a cup for the sheriff. "You know something else occurs to me…" Sitting down at one of the tables, he leaned forward. "Neither Womack nor Fitzsimmons had lived in the area very long."

"And those pictures didn't match." She nodded.

"We need to know who lived in those two houses before our victims did." Matt stood and headed for Chuck's office where he picked up his laptop and began going through files from the Harris County Property Tax records using the addresses. He pulled out his notebook and jotted down the names. "Marcy Price lived in the Womack house and Caitlyn Torrance lived in the Fitzsimmons house."

"So maybe they had gone out with Dietrich…I see what you mean." Martinez nodded as Matt's fingers flew across the keyboard.

"It looks like Marcy Price is living in Rosenberg now and…" He pounded the keyboard again. "Caitlyn Torrance – now Mrs. Charles McElroy – is living in Beaumont." Jotting down the numbers he grinned up at the sheriff. "Divide and conquer?"

"Give me one of 'em." She punched in the number for Mrs. McElroy and began asking about Dietrich as Matt called Marcy Price. Both hung up about the same time. "Bingo – she went out with him once."

"And so did Price. But only once – she refused to ever see him again. He was the reason she moved – wouldn't quit bugging her."

"Mrs. McElroy said she went out with him one time about two weeks before she met her future husband. He continued to call her and stop by the house until she moved out. She and McElroy married and moved to Beaumont about a year and a half ago."

"So he couldn't find the women that he had dated…" The PI got up and stretched. "…so he took it out on the ones who were there."

"That's how it sounds."

"I'd like to find out who the women in the other pictures are that Chuck found."

"I think the TV stations would be our best bet." Martinez gave him a smile. Calling up to her secretary, she arranged for a press conference to be held at 3:00PM. Just as she hung up the phone, Chuck walked into the small office, somewhat surprised to find his boss there.

"So did you find anything else interesting?" Houston swallowed more of the coffee.

"I'm not sure interesting is the right term." He brought in a file box that had several notebooks in it. "This guy is one sick puppy. What's in these notebooks here…well, let's just say it's some disturbing stuff. He wrote down all kinds of things about these ladies – and what he wanted to do to them."

Martinez told him about the press conference. "If we could get information from the women about Dietrich it might make for a stronger case against him."

Matt drained the cup of coffee. "What about the van?"

Chuck sat down behind the desk. "It's being towed in as we speak. I thought it would be better if we took a look at it here."

"Good idea." Sheriff Martinez looked at the two. "You two make a good team."

"We ought to – we've know each other for thirty years now." Chuck threw a piece of paper at Matt who swatted it back at him.

"All right, boys – get to work and go through those notebooks." She started toward the door. "And let me know what you find in the van."

"Yes ma'am." Both answered at the same time and once she was out of sight Chuck threw the paper back at his friend before both grabbed a notebook and started reading.

At 3:00 the press conference started. As she stood at the podium with Wylie and Houston, the sheriff told a little of what had occurred to the crowd of reporters and cameramen and asked for the public's help in identifying the women in the portraits. "I want to emphasize the point that we don't believe that these ladies are in any danger. Our suspect is now in custody; we merely want to see if they have any information that could help us with the case."

As the two detectives left the briefing room Chuck's phone rang. "Wylie…uh huh…Great, we'll be right down." Hanging up he punched Matt in the shoulder. "They're ready to start on the van. Wanna go check it out?"

"Yep." He followed his friend to the elevator and the pair went down to the basement where the van had been brought. Michelle Rodolfo was already there and preparing to get to work on the vehicle.

"So are you two just going to look over my shoulder or are you going to help?" She gave both detectives a smile.

"Well it would sure go faster if we all worked on it." Matt grabbed a pair of gloves and a flashlight as did Chuck and all three began going over the van after the tech dusted for prints on the outside. While Chuck took the driver's side, Matt began on the passenger side. Going through the glove compartment he gave a grunt. "Found a box of condoms…same brand as what I found at the Fitzsimmons house." Retrieving an evidence bag from the work table, he dropped the box inside and labeled the bag.

"That should help." Chuck was inspecting under the seat.

"So did he name the women in the notebooks you went through?" Houston continued sorting through the papers.

"Nope – what about the ones you read?"

"Nope. And you know what? A lawyer could say that he was just writing a book…" The PI shook his head. "Mmmm, this is interesting." He pulled out a legal sized envelope that was full of parking tickets. "How in the heck did he have this many tickets and still manage to stay on the road?" Sorting through them he handed one over to Chuck. "Look at where he got the ticket, bud."

"Dallas Street…that's where Liz Womack lived." He watched as his friend continued to look through the tickets.

"Chuck…there are matches to the streets where our victims have been. What do you think the odds are that the other tickets here match up to where the ladies in the other pictures live?"

"I'd say real damn good. How many are there?"

"Eleven." The pair exchanged a look. "You know she's gonna wanna know about this."

"You found 'em."

"She's your boss."

"She's yours, too."

"Yep, but she's yours all the time." Houston put the find into another evidence bag and labeled it as Chuck pulled out his phone and dialed Martinez, informing her of what they had so far. Just as he was about to hang up, Michelle Rodolfo spoke up from the back of the van.

"Tell her I just found some DNA back here." She grinned at Matt as the other detective passed the find along.

"Hang on, Chuck." Houston had just looked under the passenger seat and pulled out a hank of rope. "I think I just found what he's been tying them up with – as well as his weapon of choice." Very carefully, he removed the rope and then a wooden mallet that had blood and hair on it.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

The next morning, Houston pulled into the parking lot right behind Chuck, the two friends picking on each other and laughing as they entered the building. Sheriff Martinez was standing just inside the doorway watching the pair as they came up the front steps. "Do you two always carry on like this?"

"No ma'am – it's usually worse than this." Houston gave her a big grin.

"Glad to see you've tamed it down so you can work." She shook her head and smiled at them. "Actually, I wouldn't care if you two came in painted up like clowns as long as you kept producing the kind of work you have been. Let's go upstairs and talk a minute." The two men followed along a little uncertainly and stepped on the elevator with their boss and then entered her office. "Have a seat." She sat down behind her desk. "Dietrich has a public defender now – a bright young man with visions of saving the world." She rolled her eyes. "We're scheduled to meet with him and his client in thirty minutes."

"I'm willing to bet they're going to plead insanity." Houston was completely serious now, all traces of humor gone.

"I suspect that myself… and truthfully, Dietrich may well be insane."

"The notebooks sure make him sound that way." Chuck spoke up, nodding his head. "That defense gets thrown around a lot, but in this case…" He shrugged.

"I want both of you in there. We'll try to get some information out of him but most likely his lawyer will do the talking."

Scratching his mustache with the back of his thumb Houston spoke again. "Has anyone called in to ID the ladies in the other pictures?"

"One…her name is Sheila Maples and she's just fine. Her husband saw it on the news and called in."

Half an hour later they met with Dietrich and his attorney in one of the interrogation rooms. Just as they had suspected, the lawyer was doing all of the talking and did in fact want to have his client undergo a psychiatric evaluation. Their meeting at an end, the three officers went into Chuck's office as Matt's phone rang.

"Hey Babe."

"How's it going?" He brought her up to date. "Well, I just wanted to remind you that Walter King's trial starts in two days."

"Uh huh, I haven't forgotten. I'll call you back in just a few minutes, okay?"

"Sure, tell Chuck hello for me."

"Yes ma'am. Love you."

"You, too. 'Bye."

"What'd you forget this time?" Chuck sat down behind the desk and shot his friend a smile.

"I haven't. I've got to testify in two days at Walter King's trial."

"I'd love to go see that." The detective shook his head.

"Dietrich is going to be evaluated for the next four days or so, depending on how busy they are." Martinez looked over at Chuck. "I think we can take of things – for now anyway." She gave Matt a smile. "I still say you could move back."

"Now Sheriff, if he moved back here with us what would all them poor folks out in Hollyweird do for entertainment?" The detective ducked as Houston tossed a piece of paper at him. "You know, maybe I ought to come out there and visit you – see if it's really as action-packed as you try to make me believe."

"Come right on – I can keep you busy." The paper was thrown back again. "If you think it's okay, I'll head on back tomorrow."

"Sure – but you know we may need you to testify when Dietrich comes up for trial."

"You mean IF he comes up for trial." Wyle shook his head. "That is one sick dude."

After spending a few hours determining that the rest of the women in the pictures were safe, Houston headed back to the ranch and spent the afternoon working cattle with the Hoffmann brothers, Ollie Burkhardt, and Scott Tisdale. As he was taking the rest of the cowboys and Madre Rosa out for supper his phone rang. "Hey pard, what's up?" He had just finished helping the housekeeper into the truck and was about to open his own door.

"You won't have to worry about coming back for a trial." Chuck was walking out to his truck and heading for home.

"Uh oh, what happened?"

"Dietrich pulled a good one before he left here. He was put in a cell with two other guys that are headed to the psych ward. Evidently he said something to one of them that pissed him off."

"Uh oh." Houston sat behind the wheel and listened.

"Uh huh…the guy was about four inches taller than you and about two hundred pounds heavier. He used the shackles on his feet to strangle Dietrich."

"Holy cow…" The PI sat shaking his head in amazement. "Well, I didn't see that one coming. What'd the sheriff say?"

"What could she say? Nobody saw that coming. He's been absolutely silent the whole time he's been here except for saying he wanted a lawyer and then talking to him when he got here."

"Ooookay. Well…" Matt closed the door of the truck. "I guess that's the end of that, huh?"

"At least we know he won't hurt anybody else." Both were quiet for a moment. "So when are you heading back down this way? You and CJ need to bring Catey over here for a romp with the young'uns."

"As soon as I get the chance, bud. Tell Lisa and the kids hello for me, would ya?"

"Sure – tell CJ I said to kick your butt whether you need it or not." The deputy laughed as he started his truck.

"Not likely – she doesn't need any encouragement."


End file.
